


Your smile on mine

by AdikaOfMandalore



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Mutual Pining, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-05
Updated: 2021-02-05
Packaged: 2021-03-17 01:27:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,588
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29217189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdikaOfMandalore/pseuds/AdikaOfMandalore
Summary: Din can no longer hide from you
Relationships: Din Djarin & Reader, Din Djarin/Reader, Din Djarin/You
Kudos: 46





	Your smile on mine

You hum a soft lullaby under your breath, smiling when the kid tugs sleepily at your mythosaur pendant, little snores already coming from his round mouth. His huge eyes, innocent and bright as stars, open just a smidgen to look up at you and he coos, barely a murmur, before his lids close once again, as he snuggles closer to your chest.

You cradle him, gently swaying to the rhythm of the song your grandfather used to play on the holorecorder to make you sleep, pressing now and then your mouth on his wrinkly forehead, leaving small kisses that make him giggle in his sleep and further relax against you.

«Hey.» A light breath coming from behind you and, when you turn, slowly, so as not to jostle the kid awake, Din is there, standing with his side pressed against the stairs that go up to the cockpit and the living quarters of the ship, one hand holding the durasteel railing in a vice grip, knuckles white with tension.

He’s not wearing any armour, safe for the helmet, of course, and he looks so… human. No longer a towering and unreadable column of polished, indestructible beskar, but a man with softness within his tonic muscles and shoulders slightly hunched forward.

«Hey. – You smile at him, still gently rocking the toddler in your arms. – I didn’t wake you, did I?»

«No, I-» His voice catches and a static, weird sound comes from the modulator of his helmet. He’s clearing his throat, you realize with no little stupor.

«Din?»

«I want- need to show you something.»

«Oh, sure.» You wait patiently for him to move, but he nervously shifts his weight from one leg to the other and taps his forefinger on the banister.

«Can we go-? – He nods towards the ladder, his voice uncertain as you’ve never heard before. – Just the two of us?»

«Of course. – You gently nod, starting to worry about his strange behaviour. – Let me just put the little one down and then I’m all yours.» You then promise and, if it weren’t for the helmet hiding his face, you’d notice the way his pupils dilate at your last words, a rouge fire licking at his neck and cheeks.

But you only see a curt nod, the tinted T visor trained on the socks on his feet, before he’s turning around and climbing the steps in a hurry. You follow him with a confused gaze, wondering what’s up with him, lately, and, currently, what is it, exactly, that he wants to show you.

«Sleep tight, my love» you bid in a soft whisper, carefully tucking the kid in his floating pram, spending a few more minutes to neatly cover him with his favourite fluffy blanket and, once you left one last kiss on the tiny tip of his button nose, you close the lid and leave.

*

Din is waiting for you in the cockpit, rolling the silver ball of the speed lever, or, rather, the kid’s favourite toy, between his thumb and forefinger. The white and light blue twirls of hyperspace reflect on its surface, so it looks like he has a piece of space in his hand. But nothing is quite as breathtaking as the way the streams of stars and emptiness slide like molten light on the round edge of his helmet.

You gently knock on the durasteel jamb of the sliding door, waiting for him to turn around and face you.

«I’m here.»

«Sit?» he murmurs, the vocoder barely registering it, spinning the chair towards you, while still nervously toying with the kid’s sphere.

«Sure. – You offer him a small smile and take place in the seat behind the pilot’s, observing him as he puts the ball back at its place and frowning when he suddenly gets up. – So… what did you want to sh-?» The question dies on your tongue when he silently kneels between your slightly parted legs and, with extreme carefulness, takes your hands in his, holding your palms over the sharp cheeks of his helmet.

«I want to show you all of me.»

«Din – you breathe out with a watery smile. – Are you-?»

«I’m sure.» He anticipates you, slowly guiding your hands closer, until your skin is resting on the cold beskar that for so long has served as a flat, indecipherable barrier between him and the rest of the galaxy. A barrier he’s now willing to tear down for you.

You want to ask what about his Creed, but then decide against it; he probably mulled over this for days and days, carefully considering and weighing the irremediable consequences.

«You know I’m more than okay with never seeing your face, yes? I love you because of you, not because of what you look like under there. I’m okay with it» you repeat, gently tracing with the pad of your thumb the rim of his T visor, where you suppose his eyebrows would be.

«I’m not – he whispers, his voice grating in his throat, as he tenderly tucks your hands towards the chin of his helmet. – I want you to see me and I want to be able to really see you. To touch you, to- taste you. Do- do you want it too?»

«Yes, of course, Din – you resolutely swear before his timid hesitation. – Of course I want it too.»

A sigh and, close as you are, you feel his breath, hot and humid, against the back of your hands.

You both grip the edge of his headdress a little firmer, before you bend forward and briefly press your forehead to his with a little smile. One you know he’s returning in earnest.

«Are you ready?»

«I should be the one asking that» you try to joke, but your voice breaks with emotion and you can already feel tears pricking the corners of your eyes.

You hear a chocked out sound that might be a chuckle coming from under the lip of the helmet, and then he’s moving his fingers, calloused and just slightly trembling, around yours to click something you can’t quite see.

A soft hiss as the helmet lock releases pressured air and then your hands, once again joined, are lifting it up and away from his head.

«Hi» you whisper, drinking in his traits as he, large brown eyes boring in you, gently leaves the last piece of his armour on the floor at your feet.

«Hi» he repeats, almost shyly. His baritone is so much warmer, clearer, and yet still breathy, now that it’s unfiltered.

«You have beautiful eyes – you blurt out before you can refrain yourself. – And a beautiful smile» you add, as he drops his soulful gaze with a bashful grin, a light bloom dusting his chiseled cheeks. You never thought you’d see the day in which a Mandalorian blushed because of a genuine compliment of yours.

«Can I- can we-?» he stammers, his voice low and shy, looking at you from under his long, black eyelashes. He doesn’t need to continue for you to understand what he’s asking for.

«Please» you murmur and you’d feel embarrassed by the whimper-y undertone of your voice, if Din’s fingers – oh, so gloriously bare and warm – didn’t come up to cup your cheek, while his other hand rests at the nape of your head, gently inviting you to bend a little further towards him. You indulge with a delighted sigh, cupping his cheeks as well, your thumbs lightly brushing the stubble covering them.

«I’ve never done this, before – he confides with a gulp, a trembling breath escaping his parted lips when you follow with a finger the aquiline curve of his nose, fascinated by the tiny, constant changes in his expression, because of course his emotions would be so openly displayed, after all those years spent behind a mask. – I- I don’t know how to-»

«It’s okay» you reassure him with the calmest tone you can manage, what with your own heart fluttering furiously in your throat and a tight knot forming in your belly at the mere thought of finally kissing him.

«Little steps, Din, we have all the time in the world» you promise, a smile tugging at your lips at his desperate nod.

You bend down and _little_ _steps_ , you sweetly chide him, when he tries to duck his head to catch your lips. You feel his pout against your chin when you tilt your face away to press an airy kiss on his cheek; and then the other. You start peppering him with kisses and, after tensing up at the strange affections, he eventually closes his eyes and relaxes in your arms, nesting himself between your knees with a content hum, both of his large hands coming to rest on the back of your neck, keeping you as close to him as you’ll allow.

«I love you» you blow against his mouth and he all but whimpers when you finally press your lips together for the first time.

It’s nothing grand nor extremely passionate, but you gladly let him prop you on his lap so that he can hold you more tightly and have an easier, more comfortable access to your mouth.

It’s slow and caring, sometimes clumsy, your rhythm sloppy and tentative; it’s perfect.

You tug at his slightly sweaty dark locks, the tips curling lovingly around your fingers, and giggle at the grunted huff of air that comes crushing directly in your mouth, hot and minty.

His smile on your lips is the most beautiful thing you’ve ever felt.


End file.
